


final journey to the ground

by Shen_Gong_Oops



Series: chopped fics [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bellamy and Lincoln are Bros, Bellamy is sent to earth first, Can I tag that?, Chopped: the 100 Challenge, Even if he's barely in this, First Round, Season/Series 01, Wells Jaha is alive because my boy deserved better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 10:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20946998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shen_Gong_Oops/pseuds/Shen_Gong_Oops
Summary: Bellamy Blake is sent to Earth a little over a year before one hundred delinquents who inadvertently start a war.For the first round of Chopped: the 100 Fanfic Challenge





	final journey to the ground

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted Bellamy using a bow and arrow

It had been a long couple of hours. Days?

The bag was pulled from his head, causing him to recoil from the brightness. The bag had encased him in darkness for too long. Someone behind him had forced him to his knees. His wrists raw from chafing against the ropes binding him. Blinking once, then twice slowly, the whiteness began to fade. Anya stood before him in the center of her village. Warriors encircling them, pounding their feet and the hilt of their weapons against the ground.

Lincoln stood stoically to the side, arms folded at his chest. His jaw worked nervously. Whatever they had kidnapped him for wasn’t good - though, was any kidnapping deemed ‘good?’

“ _ Bellomi kom Skaikru _ ,” Anya stalked closer to him and each warrior stilled. She spoke quietly, barely above a whisper but her words rang out. “ _ You have betrayed us. _ ”

Had he translated her words wrong? He hadn’t done anything to betray Trikru or the Coalition. He spent the past week out on the oil rig, trading meat and furs to the people of Floukru, a known ally of Trikru. Anya drew her sword from the holster on her back, brandishing the blade up into the air. The sunlight gleamed of the metal, flashing briefly into Bellamy's eyes. The warriors began to chant, “ _ Jus drein, jus daun _ .”

Definitely hadn’t mistranslated that.

No blood was spilled while he traveled from TonDC to the oil rig. Or from his meager farm to TonDC. “May I know the charges?” he snapped, thumping his fists against his thighs. His fight wouldn’t be over. He could feel the handle of his boot knife, if he could somehow finagle himself to reach the weapon he’d go down swinging. Hell, he’ll use his bounds hands if need be.

Anya, twirled the blade before him. Rolling her wrist to and fro, the sword moving in a figure-eight. She stilled, squaring her hips and bending her knees. Shifting her weight backwards minutely, she held the blade out in front of her, the tip pointed at Bellamy. “ _ You came under the banner of peace, we granted you land on our borders, and now you repay our hospitality by having your people annihilate an entire village. _ ”

“The warriors,” Lincoln began, purposely choosing to speak in English, “look to be young. A rite of passage for the children of the Ark?”

“That’s not possible.” Bellamy started, trying to raise from his position. A hand forcibly gripped his shoulder, shoving him face first into the dirt. “We don't train children. Only adults may join the guard.”

“You think me foolish? I have seen what your warriors have done.” She gestured to those surrounding them, “They’ve seen what your people have done. They’ve lost families, lost friends when a copy of your metal home leveled a village.” Anya’s eyes narrowed as she clenched her jaw, “As you will.”

A second dropship came to Earth? “Please, they didn’t know anyone was down here. I lost communication with the Ark the moment I landed. The Council probably presumed I died on impact. To them, civilization died ninety-seven years ago with the bombs. To the Ark, they are the only ones to survive the Praimfriya. How were they to know they’d burn a village? Let me figure out what happened, please.”

Anya’s face remained impassive. The warriors surrounding them deeming blood and his head. The blade of the sword inched closer to him. The point came to rest on his Adam’s apple, lightly pressing against the cartilage. He could feel a spot of blood trailing down his neck into his collar. The blade was pulled back at an antagonizing slow speed. “You have a week.”

That was how Bellamy found himself, escorted by Lincoln, approaching the crash site of the dropship. A crude palisade half-erected around the front of the ship’s perimeter. Groups of six to eight carried tree trunks towards the wall. Amidst the crowd a male stood, hands loosely gripping a large stick - did he believed a blunt end constituted a spearhead? The male threw back his head in laughter. Opening his eyes, the male took in Bellamy and Lincoln. He tightened his grip the shaft of his ‘spear’ and began yelling ‘Grounders,’ repeatedly. Almost instantly, several others rushed about, grabbing large sticks with rocks attached to the end. Those carrying tree trunks, tossed the logs away - thankfully not injuring anyone - and ran to arm themselves. They hid behind the unfinished wall, behind rocks, in small ditches Anything that would provide cover.

“My name’s Bellamy Blake.” He placed his arms up in the air, walking languidly towards their encampment. He contemplated making a show of disarming himself. Removing his bow, his arrows, his hatchet and knives but opted against it. They may see it as a sign of force. Judging from their spears, they weren’t properly armed. None of these Arkers were guardsmen. “Like you, I’m from the Ark.”

He glanced over to Lincoln, who copied Bellamy’s actions. Arms raised as a sign of peace. His weapons remained in their place.

Hushed voices whispered to each other heatedly. The original crier stood firm, the only one not hiding behind a barrier. Brave kid. “Liar!” the boy looked too young to have a face that worn. He gripped the weapon higher, elbows pointed outwards. His footing uneven; he’d fall over if the breeze became too strong. Everything about him screamed untrained.

“Born and raised in Factory Station.” Now closer to the camp, he took in the faces of their makeshift spear wielders. Each one tired and scared but young. Too young to be trained by the guards. Children, Lincoln called them. He wasn’t far off. Did the Ark send a dropship full of children to Earth? In the far corner of the camp, he could see what looked to be eleven and twelve year olds trying to hide in the treeline, protected by a woman with long dark hair. He couldn’t make out her face but she stood taller than the rest, armed with a similar stick and rock combination.

Before he could say anything else, the woman turned. A loud sob erupted from her as she dropped her weapon. Her face was caked with mud and dirt and yet his heart stopped. He never thought he’d see her again. “Bell!” she raced through the race, shoving aside a few of the teenagers. She knocked him back a step as she launched herself into his arms, “They said they floated you.”

"More like dropped me." Lincoln let out a scuff from behind him.

They released Octavia? Did they allow her to live in their apartment after they floated Aurora and dropped him? Hadn’t she been sent to the Skybox? He glanced around once more, recognizing a few faces of those in the camp. He couldn’t recall their names but he’d seen them before. It took him a moment for him to place the faces. During his days as a cadet, some tours were spent in lockup. Cadets worked general population. A few of the faces were of those in genpop. The Ark sent down the Skybox.

He wished he could say he was surprised by the Council’s decision, but he wasn’t. They had done the same with Bellamy. Why waste precious lives of upstanding citizens to Earth to find its survivability when you could use expendable criminals with expiration dates? And to be able to survive down here, he needed to speak with whoever led their camp.

Octavia gathered several of her friends to meet on the top floor of the dropship, though she never strayed too far from Bellamy. They remained in each other's line of sight, close enough to remind each other they were okay. She grabbed people from all aspects of the encampment: some were lugging materials to the wall, some were cataloging their stores of rations, some were from the main floor of the dropship which housed their MedBay and what looked like a tech station. She even grabbed Wells Jaha, the son of the Chancellor who sported a large scar across his neck. Was the kid capable of committing a crime? From what Bellamy recalled, he walked the most narrow of lines. As he climbed the ladder to the top floor, Bellamy noticed the tarp used as a divider between MedBay and the rest of the ship flowing back and forth. As the tarp twisted in on itself, he saw a large hole in the northwest wall. A large piece of wood covered the hole, but the wind still slipped through the cracks. The further he went, the more issues he noticed. The ship broke apart on reentry.

A dozen people, including Bellamy and Lincoln, crammed into the room. A few of Octavia’s friends dragged crates and broken chairs to sit on. Lincoln stalked to the far wall, each step echoing on the metal floor. Each delinquent shifted uncomfortably as he passed, eyes shifting nervously. The one who stood defiantly in front of the dropship asked why Lincoln was there.

"Because without him, I probably wouldn't be alive." Lincoln raised an eyebrow pointedly, "I wouldn't be alive, no probably." Lincoln smirked briefly at the correction, leaning back against the wall.

"Unlike you lot, I brokered a tentative peace with- I'm sorry, what did you call them?" Bellamy asked, looking at the shaggy haired boy.

The kid said, raising his chin in challenge, "Grounders."

"Right, with the Grounders. You managed to destroy that within what a day or two?"

The blonde seated near the back corrected him snidely, "We've been here for almost a month. Raven came down about a week later." Ponytail in the back winked, propping her feet up onto a box. A month? They had been there for just under a month and they'd already destroyed everything he worked so hard to achieve. The blonde continued, "Why are you here now? Like I said, we've been here for almost a month now and you're only just showing yourself."

The others in the group seemed to agree with her, while Octavia snapped out, "Clarke." It took a moment to recognize her, he had been disassociated with the Ark for a little over a year. Clarke Griffin of Alpha Station. Interesting, what had the prince and princess of the Ark done that their Council member parents arrested them in the first place?

"Well  _ princess _ ," he could see Lincoln rolling his eyes while the blonde, Clarke, bristled, "I've been busy trading my wares when all of a sudden I'm bound, head covered with a bag, and dragged for miles because  _ my people _ incited an act of war."

The glare from the blonde dissipated, replaced with confusion. In fact, they all look confused. "When you decimated a village." he added sharply, annoyed that they all - Octavia even - hadn’t looked guilty for what they’d done. 

"Bell, we never-"

Octavia started but the girl with the dark ponytail pulled tight cut her off, "The thruster." She looked aghast as the rest of the room looked down at the floor. "During their descent, the metal of the ship overheated. Plus when you factor in the age of the ship itself, upon reentry the dropship nearly destroyed itself. We have yet to find the thruster that broke off.” The rogue thruster annihilated a village.

But how did they get Anya to see it was an accident? It was their word against hers. Sure, his dropship didn’t resemble what it looked like when it first was built, but his remained in tact. The metal warped, but remained where it was. Anya’s seen his home. There was a likelihood she’d think they were lying. “If we can’t prove your innocence, I’ll be found guilty with the rest of you.”

Lincoln looked down at his hands, eyes closing solemnly, “ _ Jus drein, jus daun _ .” The heads of their makeshift Council whipped around when Lincoln spoke. “Blood must have blood.” He repeated the phrase in English,

A cold shiver ran down Bellamy’s spine. “If we don’t show you’re innocent and we don’t find peace, the sanction will be Death by a Thousand Cuts - each member of the clan gets to a turn cutting the offender.” Bellamy stopped and shrugged, “Though 100,000 cuts is a lot. They’re bound to get tired after a while.” he muttered dryly. “Just put those less likely to survive out first.”

Floppy Hair stood up from his spot on the ground, “They wouldn’t do that.”

“The Grounders, as you called them, are a bit primitive. At least when you compare to what civilization was nearly a century ago. Violent in nature.” Lincoln met his eyes, an eyebrow piqued in defiance. “Don’t give me that. There’s a reason you joined Floukru.”

Lincoln nodded in agreement, “Fair enough.”

“Trust me when I say they take punishment quite seriously.”

Logically, he knew dissuading Anya from war was the best course of action, but what did someone do with one hundred delinquent refugees if they failed? Anya, while a sound leader, wasn’t one to sway from her ways. With the dismantling of the dropship, the delinquents unwittingly commenced a war. She, under the laws set forth by her predecessors, was within her rights to find the delinquents as her enemy. The boundaries of his farm restricted expanding any further to quarter the group. And Luna, justifiably, would never jeopardize the safety of her people by defying Anya and the declaration of war. 

Lincoln squeezed his shoulder, letting him know he had an ally in all this. If they failed, he condemned a hundred kids to be tortured to death. He couldn’t let that happen.

\---- 

Herding most of the delinquent’s makeshift Council to his farm was more difficult than Bellamy anticipated. The eight teenagers hadn’t been this far away from their camp before, the terrain all new to them. One boy stopped every time they found new vegetation to ask a plethora of questions. While it was genuinely adorable to watch, they didn’t have the time to satiate the boy’s curiosity. They had under a week to make it to Bellamy’s farm and the to TonDC. They planned to stop at the farm to properly equip several of the delinquents with tools and food from Bellamy’s stores before returning to their dropship. They’d been living on Earth for a month without properly hunting anything. Surviving off the rations Jaha packed in crates for them. According to Clarke, they feared the rations would deplete before they could prepare for the impending winter. The delinquents were under the impression that if they made it to Mount Weather they’d be able to increase their stores, at least that’s what Jaha had told them in a video. At least Bellamy hadn’t been shown that video. Maybe life on Earth would have ended differently if he had. That’s how Jasper got hurt, they ventured too close to hell.

The boy and his friend stopped to pick at a bush covered with green berries, when Lincoln hurriedly smacked the berries from their hands. “They’re a hallucinogen.” Bellamy explained. “Even worse than rotten Jobi nuts, which are fun suicidal trip.”

Murphy, the boy with an angular face, let out a groan, “Does anything on this planet not want to kill us?” While still at their camp, Bellamy had explained to them in detail what to avoid in order to survive: from mutated animals to acid fog to black rain. They left Harper and Miller behind in case the fog horn sounded and under strict orders to not let anyone venture too far from the safety of the dropship, especially with the declaration of war looming. Several times throughout their journey, Bellamy or Lincoln paused to hide their party as groups of armed Trikru warriors passed by. Once or twice they passed a hunting party from Trishanakru as they neared the border between the two clans and Bellamy’s farm.

Once they made it over the crest of the next hill, the group would be able to see the farm and in the distance a river that provided irrigation for the land. Several small wooden cottages encased in a fully erected palisade. The smokehouse and the food stores lined the back perimeter. Tilled rows growing herbs and vegetables. A small flock of sheep that grazed wherever they pleased, led by Cerberus, the three headed sheep. In the center of the farm was the dropship the Council used to sentence him to Earth acting both as the main house of the farm and Bellamy’s private living quarters on the highest floor. The armory and their medbay situated on the bottom floor. He led the group through the front gates towards the dropship.

A small gaggle of children ran passed. One waving his hand shyly, before chasing after the group.

The delinquents took everything in: from the wooden box of a watchtower on the north wall to the chicken coop Bellamy recently built, which lacked chickens. He read about farmers raising chickens on the Ark, hoping maybe he could raise them here. Hadn’t come across any yet but there’s always a chance. The boy fascinated by the vegetation ran over to the few fields the camp sowed, “You have corn!” he shouted excitedly, dashing up and down the rows. “You have a legitimate garden!”

In the armory, Bellamy pulled two bows from their hooks on the wall. “Any of you know how to use one of these?”

The delinquents remained silent, eyes darting from one face to another. He assumed none of them would, he didn’t have experience with them when he came down but there was always the odd chance. Wells barely raised his hand and said, “In theory, I studied what I could when I found out my father was sending them to the ground. But I only had two days.” Two days of cramming was better than nothing.

Bellamy held out the bow to him, placing the other back on it’s hook. Lincoln offered to teach Wells the basics of handling a bow. Bellamy handed out tools and goods to the remaining delinquents: blankets, clothes, farming equipment, whatever they could spare. The gardening fan dragged his friend outside - probably to gather anything and everything he could from their fields. Didn’t blame the kid, Agro Station had a limited assortment of viable plants and herbs they could grow. Earth allowed for a much wider variance, especially for someone who came from a station that couldn’t afford more luxury items like apples. The delinquents began to scatter, taking in the farm. Octavia stayed with him for around an hour before exploring the grounds.

The only one Bellamy could see from his spot was Raven, who had wandered over to the edge of the dropship, curiously fumbling with the severed electronics of the ship. She tinkered with the fried wires he hid behind a drape.

He walked away to the stores. He didn’t possess any valuables. Nothing worthy of trading to dissuade a war.

He’d take in the delinquents if he could but his boundaries had already been pushed to their limits with each cottage built on the land. Unless the one hundred preferred to live in a cramped metal dropship for the rest of their existence. More than likely looking over their shoulder at every turn. Plus, he endangered the lives of those already on his land. They found peace for once. Found a place to call their own. He couldn’t risk their lives as well. Groaning, he slumped down onto a log surrounding one of their firepits. How did you save everyone?

\---- 

Clarke sat down on the log beside him, picking at the venison on her plate. They sat in silence for a minute or two, watching as the other delinquents cheered any time Wells fired an arrow further than a few feet. He wasn’t lying when he said he knew how to work a bow in theory. His fist too tight on the grip. “You made yourself a village.” She said, pulling off a piece of meat.

“They helped as well.”

She smiled softly, gazing out at the sun descending beyond the horizon. An array of pinks, yellows, and oranges bleeding into the darken blue sky above. Her eyes transfixed on the scene. “The woman by the fire,” Clarke lifted her chin in the direction, “said you gave them a home.”

He turned towards Sienna, who stood proudly near the campfire, passing out plates to the children of the camp. He hadn’t intended on becoming a safer alternative to the elusive City of Light. Hell, he hadn’t intended on having other humans on Earth. Early into his time on Earth, two nomadic Grounders attacked him during a trip to TonDC, looting the furs he hoped to sell. The male nearly killed Bellamy in a fight. He made it to TonDC, bruised, battered, and empty handed. Lincoln offered to accompany him back to the dropship during his return. When the pair attempted to rob Bellamy a second time - of what he wasn’t sure, they took everything from him - Lincoln aimed his bow at them. The girl, Bellamy found out, had been banished from her clan for her deformities and they looted to survive. Honestly, the moment was a blur in his memories but somehow he took them in, offering them work on his farm in exchange for a home.

Word spread across the twelve clans of a man who fell from the sky housing  _ Frikdreina _ . Soon others and their families flocked to his doors in lieu of searching for their salvation beyond the aptly named Dead Zone.

His gaze drifted to Octavia, who had taken one of Bellamy’s knives. She tossed it at their target, though the blade didn’t lodge into the material and instead dropped into the grass. “I know what it’s like to love someone who was punished for circumstances beyond their control. For being born a certain way.

“You have the makings of your own village.”

She spread her fingers out, allowing for the rice to cascade back onto her plate. She looked almost distraught, “We lost several kids in the beginning. It was hard. We were all scared and nervous and on our own for the first time. I explained the Ark was dying and we’d be the ones to save humanity. Though most were angry at everything the Ark stood for. Wanted the Ark to crumble. All it took was one person to say let the Ark die for the rest to fall in. They took their bracelets off immediately. One even attacked Wells for who his father is. Looking back, I can empathize as to why they did what they did but at the time I thought them selfish.”

He had noticed the metal bracelets a few of the delinquents wore: Clarke, Jasper, and Harper still had theirs. That transmitted back to the Ark? He hadn’t been branded with one when they sent him down. Then again, they had a small window of opportunity to prepare for his drop after his sentencing. The Ark offered to give him a second chance at life. They didn’t blame him for the acts of his mother. If he spoke up he condemned both his mother and his sister to death. He did what he was told for sixteen years, after a while it messes with the psyche. That was their reasoning. Instead they used him as a test animal. His mother jumped at the offer. Once again he had no say in his life. His mother accepted that he would have the possibility of living on Earth for him. By morning an “empty” dropship that was deemed “damaged” from the solar flares was to launch to ensure it never punctured the walls of the Ark.

“I’m guessing they gave us the bracelets as an added precaution. A means to measure our vitals in case our comms went dark. Recently, found they have experience with communication systems failing upon reaching Earth. Some people like Octavia and Monty took theirs off in a vain attempt to contact the Ark.” Her fingers rubbed back and forth on the metal. “Others wanted their freedom.”

“And you?”

“I’m still learning what I want. Some things I wanted when I first came down,” her eyes panned over the crowd, stopping when they reached her friends, “have drastically changed. I’ve got time so long as we make it through this.”

The sun officially fell beyond the tree line when Wells finally hit the target. He waved Clarke over, who reluctantly walked towards the target Lincoln set up. Jaha handed Clarke the bow and began to adjust her posture: Feet inline and perpendicular to the target. Two fingers lightly tugged at the bowstrings, her elbow raised to approximately chest height. Wells immediately corrected it. Good, your jaw should act as an anchor for your hand, elbow at ear level. The boy’s hands rested on Clakre’s shoulders for a moment, eyes searching for something. He must have deemed Clarke fine for he backed away a few steps.

Lincoln took Clarke’s spot beside Bellamy on the log, “He’s not the worst. They won’t starve to death so long as he carries a bunch of arrows with him.”

\---- 

At dawn their party split. Wells, Murphy, and Monty returned to the delinquent’s camp escorted by Emori and Otan - who promised not to steal anything of value from them. Armed with a bow, bolas, and a hoe respectfully, the trio began their journey. Each carrying a sling filled with goods and preserved foods.

The rest followed Bellamy and Lincoln to TonDC. Each delinquent carrying a hunting knife or a dagger. Except Octavia, who stole a gladius from Bellamy’s collection of swords. She would be a handful down here, as if she wasn’t back on the Ark. She boldly held the sword out in front of the others, swishing the blade dangerously. She'd end up hurting herself. He told her to sheath the weapon when an arrow flew from up in the foliage. Aimed towards Clarke - the blonde hair a beacon in the muted, neutral colors of the forest.

Bellamy hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her from the arrow’s trajectory. Once safely near the ground, he ushered half of the delinquents behind a rock while Lincoln herded the rest behind a fallen tree. They were to have two more days to reach TonDC before an official declaration was made. Two more days to end a war before it started. Another arrow soared over head. So much for that.

Both Bellamy and Lincoln nocked arrows. Testing the elasticity of the bowstring, he told the delinquents to stay hidden. Octavia looked ready to fight, brandishing her gladius. “O, trust me when I say you are to stay hidden. All of you are to stay down, got it?” His sister didn’t look pleased but ultimately complied. 

Bellamy lifted himself off the rock. He drew the bowstring back, resting it against his lips for a brief moment. Taking a breath, he released the bowstring. Arrow flying through the woods. He did this three times, watching as Grounders fell from their positions hidden in the treetops. Lincoln stood in a crouch, walking swiftly over to the fallen warriors. Bellamy told the delinquents to remain where they were when Raven hurried yelled “Grounder!”

Without hesitating, Bellamy grabbed the knife from Floppy Hair’s hand and chucked it. The blade finding purchase in the Grounder’s forehead just before he could raise his weapon at Lincoln. His friend nodded curtly in thanks. “You missed.”

Bellamy, and the rest of the group began walking over to where Lincoln stood, “No, I didn’t. I got them.”

“Barely.” Lincoln gently used his foot to turn one of the warriors over, “You were completely off center. I’m embarrassed to have trained such inaccuracy.”

“Are you serious, that throw was great.” Bellamy pulled his knife from the deceased’s forehead, whipping the blood on the guy’s armor. “Fuck you, not like I saved your life or anything.” His friend just chuckled, patting down one of the warriors pockets.

Floppy Hair, Bellamy hadn’t cared to learn his name, looked queasy as he neared, face pale. “You killed them.”

“The declaration has been made. You’re the enemy of Trikru and the Coalition, they would have killed you had we not intervened.” Lincoln said slowly, taking arrows from one of the warrior’s quivers. “War has been declared.” The Commander would not be lenient. Not when she came from the affected clan.

They were out of time.

“We could use the Reaper tunnels.” Bellamy offered. “Provide a bit of cover.”

Lincoln shook his head, “Only until the Reapers come and pick us off.”

They were still too far from TonDC. The party made it about a mile before their pace began to dip. The delinquents hadn’t been this far out, hadn’t transverse uneven terrain like this for too long. They needed to make camp or slow their pace. “I can go on ahead if you want. Let her know you’re on your way.” Lincoln offered, pulling a waterskin from his hip and handing it over to Floppy Hair. “Maybe Anya will grant you a few more days.”

Anya stated she would grant them a week to make it to her village but she lied. She probably gave him an hour or two before she declared Skaikru the enemy. It wouldn’t matter if Lincoln went on ahead, the moment they reached the gates, archers would line the walls. Arrows aimed at the group. If only they could get her to meet them on neutral territory. Place distance between her and her army. He asked Lincoln for his journal. They could make it to TonDC by nightfall or they could find a place closer. They’d be approaching the army bunker shortly and would cross a bridge in about an hour or two. If he could send Lincoln on ahead and have him bring Anya out of the village walls, with a handful of warriors, they would have some semblance of an advantage. Walking into the heart of the village would be suicide. They opted for the army base. Allowing for the delinquents to rest and for Bellamy to get a feel for the location.

If Anya refused, it’s not like they had anything else to lose. She already shortened the length of time.

\---- 

The army base was decrepit. Half of the buildings concaved when the bombs fell. The other half weren’t properly cared for. A century spent falling to ruins. A lake took up a majority of the army base, drowning a few barracks. He told Jasper and Floppy Hair to climb the observation tower on the far side of the side. Hopefully the rungs of the ladder would hold their weight. They were to take turns watching the base to warn when Lincoln and Anya approached. A depot stood on one side of the observation tower, it’s roof caving in. He told them the others to find a place to rest, but none of them listened. Octavia and Raven broke into the only barrack that looked to not be several feet under water. Bellamy walked about the perimeter of the camp, Clarke trailing a few feet behind.

They climbed through the dead grass, when Clarke’s foot got caught in something. Brushing aside the grass, Clarke’s shoe was trapped inside a metal handle. A door built inside of the base’s hill. “Think anything’s down there?”

Only one way to find out. Removing his hatchet from it’s leather cover on his waist, Bellamy used it to break the latch. A staircase below led into the darkness. They would make it halfway down the stairs before they were no longer able to see. Clarke reached into the small sack slung over her shoulder, pulling out a small flashlight and handed it to him. She then pulled out a second for herself. “Compliments of Thelonious Jaha.”

They never gave him a flashlight. Gave him enough rations to last two weeks, that was it. Then again, they weren’t entrusting the fate of the Ark in his hands when they sent him down. At least he didn’t think they were. 

He followed closely behind as she made her descent. Hopefully, if the latch remained in place, the supplies would have remained untouched. As they continued their descent, a skeleton laid to the side of the stairs. Died in the supply depot, hell of a way to go. Cobwebs littered nearly every surface, dust covered crates and bins lining the shelves. All they found were empty bins and one box full of orange emergency blankets. As they searched, Clarke bumped into one of the three oil drums that sat in the corner. Whatever was hidden inside of the drum rattled against the metal sides.

Prying the lid off of the drum, all that could be seen was black grease. “What do you think is in there?” she asked quietly, voice echoing through the depot. She held her light higher, but nothing could be seen through the thick grease. Pushing his sleeve up, Bellamy reached into the drum. His fingers wrapping around the barrel of a gun.

As gently as he could, he pulled the weapon out. He ushered Clarke to stand away from the drum before kicking it over. Grease spilled about the floor as well as several automatic guns. “Not what I expected to find in a supply depot.” Clarke muttered, leaning over his shoulder to look.

“I think I have any idea.”

They gathered a weapon in each hand and made their way out of the bunker, careful not to slip on the grease. As they neared the surface, the voices of the other delinquents could be heard, frantically calling out for them. Had Anya arrived? Racing up the final few steps, they ran into Raven first. “Where the hell did you two- are those guns?”

Bellamy held up the two weapons as did Clarke. “Anya here?” Raven shook her head no, eyes focused on the weapons. “We need help carrying up more.”

Between Bellamy, Clarke, Octavia, and Raven they were easily able to bring up the remaining guns. His idea was risky. He knew Anya, she hated the Mountain for what they'd done. There was a chance she’d agree. He intended on showing off what the guns could do. He asked Indra a few months back about finding automatic weapons. She growled no Grounder would touch a gun, let alone raise one against an opponent in battle. While Anya may not wield such a weapon, she may ally herself with those who fought with them. 

The Reapers kidnapped a sizable amount of Grounders in their last raid from Trikru, Trishanakru, and Azgeda. Every time they came out, more and more families were torn about. Grounders went into the Mountain and most never came out. Those that did weren’t human anymore. They lost their humanity. Rabid beasts hunting their brothers. Indra’s husband fell prey to the Reapers’ illness: the woman having to mercy kill him. Just like how the Reapers seized a hunting group led by Oasis. They took a member of Bellamy’s camp. They attacked his family and made an enemy of Bellamy Blake.

Skaikru provided a worthy ally in the fight against the Mountain. And for once they’d be on a level playing field, Anya knew this. She had to.

He relayed his plan to the others, having to go over what he knew about the Mountain Men - Lincoln would be better fitted to explain, having lived in the Mountain’s shadows longer. Running from them longer. He explained what happened to Oasis and the others. But no one knew what occurred within the stronghold or what the Mountain Men desired of the Grounders.

Here’s hoping this works.

\---- 

They held their meeting inside one of the barracks. Flashlights were placed on several surfaces, angled to obtain the optimal amount of light. The cobwebs in the corner glistened eerily when the light struck the silk strands. The air stale. The only sound being a drop of water plopping onto the stone ground somewhere. Probably a leak from the lake overhead.

He stood tall in the center of the room, arms folded. Clarke and Octavia on either side. Raven stood in the back holding a gun as did Jasper. Floppy Hair stood amongst them empty handed. Anya sat opposite them atop one of the bunks. Her fingers laced together resting against her lip in thought. They proposed an alliance against the Mountain. To free their people.

Seconds, minutes ticked by before Anya opened her mouth, “How do you know the Mountain Men haven’t killed them?”

“Why else would they take your people?” Clarke asked, stepping forward. “Please understand, we are not your enemy.”

Anya stood from her seat, arms falling to her side. “Yet you are willing to make an enemy of the Mountain.”

“The Mountain is my enemy.” Bellamy stated, “They kidnapped-”

One of Anya’s warriors stepped forward, gripping the handle of his sword, “They kidnapped  _ Frikdreina _ and their sympathizers.” the man sneered.

Anya placed out a hand halting him, “I am not to wage war against the Mountain unless my  _ heda  _ bequeathed it.” He held his tongue. Not hypocritical in the slightest. Anya declared war against one hundred children instantly, yet she refused to take on the Mountain who attacked her lands and her people for years. “But, I am willing to entertain an alliance.” Her dark eyes darted to the rifles Jasper and Raven held. “Demonstrate.”

Bellamy took the rifle from Raven. He placed the butt against his shoulder. His left hand wrapped around the forward hand grip, his right around the pistol grip. Pointer finger hovering over the trigger. Taking a breath, he fired at shot. The bullet sinking into the bedpost of a bunk bed. Anya’s eyes indecipherable. She stalked over to the bunk bed. Her fingers grazing over the bullet hole.

“I will not agree to an alliance.” He was ready to argue, they were all ready to argue but Anya raised a hand to silence them. “But I will allow for Skaikru to be absorbed into Trikru as one of their own.”

“We’d become part of Trikru?” Clarke asked.

Anya glided across the floor stopping mere inches from Clarke. “So long as you leave your home.” She emphasized the word ‘your’. “If you remain there, I will take that as your refusal.”

Join or die.

Clarke looked ready to say something but visibly recoiled into herself. Her blue eyes darting back and forth. Was she thinking about this? Anya was willing to end their war so long as the delinquents moved from their camp. There would be no bloodshed, no thousand cuts. Did she not want peace? “Clarke.” he whispered gruffly, reminding her an answer had yet to be given.

“We’re to vacate our camp. Not Bellamy’s?” Clarke asked. She tried to keep her voice level, but a slight waiver could be made out. “You would allow for us to move into Bellamy’s camp?”

The others muttered Clarke’s name pleadingly for her affirmation but Bellamy’s heart plummeted. An affirmation would secure the safety of the delinquents but endanger his villagers. Nervously, he ran a hand through his dark curls. He’s lived for so long outside the realm of the Coalition. Able to coexist peacefully with them while simultaneously providing protection to those banished from their clans. He was too naive to believe Anya would allow him to continue living on land endowed from Trikru and Trishanakru. 

“What’s to become of the people on the farm?” Clarke asked.

The male who spoke up before stepped forward once more, “The  _ Frikdreina _ and their sympathizers know what is to happen.” The three other warriors nodded in agreement.

Clarke clenched her fists at her sides, “If we reach an accord, the one hundred gets to live,” Clarke opened her left fist, holding the palm flat. Slowly, she separated the middle and ring fingers, creating a small ‘V’. She stared woefully down at her hand, “But I condemn the others to death.”

**Author's Note:**

> Open ended?


End file.
